


Words that Start with W

by Nanfreak (Nan_Golden)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Biting, Dark, Depression, Impact Play, M/M, Scratching, Suicidal Thoughts, Unsafe Sex, self destructive behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:58:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nan_Golden/pseuds/Nanfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto knew that it was dangerous and stupid, but he loved the feeling of semen trickling down his leg as he walked home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words that Start with W

The music in the bar was too loud for casual conversation. Ianto had never seen anyone dancing in here. Men rarely clustered; they spread out instead, watching each other without appearing to. Leaning against the walls, slumped on barstools, drinks in hand or thumbs hooked in pockets.

Ianto was dressed in worn clothes that would shock the team. Jeans, whitened with age, and a snug T-shirt with a slogan that was not ironic. Like everybody else, Ianto was seated equidistant between his nearest neighbours. It was a strange yet perfect place from which to fuck other men.

Absently mindedly, Ianto stroked his necklace as he drank, his fingers tracing a W engraved on one of the beads. He couldn’t remember what he had ordered. It was whiskey, most likely, when he considered how warm he felt. Warm, wanton and wary. Whorish too. He pinched the bead hard enough for it to embed the letter on the pad of his thumb, a white W in the centre of a pink flush.

Ianto scanned the patrons. Tonight he was looking for something specific, someone who’s tastes he could discern with a quick study. Wise, whale, wharf. He was being most unwise tonight. Owen would be horrified at the risks he took in his sex life. It seemed pointless to worry about possible diseases that could kill him decades from now, when he could be killed by a Weevil tomorrow. Surely he had more than nine lives; he kept on surviving catastrophes that should have extinguished him, whether he wanted to or not.

A pair of men caught his attention. They were slightly closer to each other than anybody else. A third man slouched behind them, thumbs through his belt loops. A trio then. Three was a good number to start with. These men were new here; he hadn’t seen them since he’d become a regular this summer. Ianto fingered his necklace and straightened his back. Wicked, wild, whip, wail. Here, shorthand was sufficient: a long glance, a slight spreading of legs, a head tip towards the staircase at the back of the bar. A staircase that led to the basement, to a hall, to a door guarded by thick-necked security.

Willing, wrecked, woe. The trio sauntered to the staircase, following Ianto down into the dark basement. Half of the florescent strip lighting was burnt out, dull flickers that were reminiscent of strobe lights. At the end of the hallway was a door labeled STORAGE: EMPLOYEES ONLY PAST THIS POINT. Set above the steel door was a red light bulb. Ianto smiled at the symbolism; whores only past this point, the sign might as well have said.

The tallest of the trio seemed to be in charge. He was middle aged with closed cropped, sandy brown hair, wearing jeans and a denim jacket. One of the other men had darker hair turning white at the temples, brown eyes and a goatee. The third was the youngest, a fair ginger with blue eyes.

Ianto stood by the steel door, straining his ears to catch any sounds coming from behind it. He could hear nothing but the low mutters of conversation between the tallest man and the bouncer and the crinkle of several bank notes passed over. The bouncer unlocked the door and held it open for them.

“Second last door on the left.” The bouncer told them.

Inside was darker than the hallway, it looked like some storage rooms had been cleared out. Ianto felt like asking for a towel and locker, stilling the grin that the thought evoked. He could hear harsh breathing coming from behind the closed doors down a single long hallway. A muffled thumping echoed from the first room on the right accompanied by laboured grunting. Ianto wondered if it was fucking or hitting that was the cause.

In a single file, with the tall man leading, they walked to their small room. He halted and held up his hand to Ianto, indicating that he should stop.

“Wait outside until we get you.”

Ianto nodded while the men entered the room and closed the door behind them. He wondered what their names were. Not that he’d ever introduced himself before. Everyone lied about their names. It wasn’t as if he was going to shout anyone’s name when he came. Now that he was alone, he found himself hard pressed to remember what the trio looked like.

The grunting and thumping continued as Ianto waited. He admired their stamina. The hall was dimly lit with more red bulbs, washing everything crimson. He wondered if someone was getting a rosy ass while he waited.

Finally, the door was opened by the tall man; Ianto felt flushed and his heart rate sped up. Inside was yet another red light bulb lighting up the cement floor and mattress. Whoever was in charge of ambiance wasn’t terribly creative.

“Inside, now,” the tall man instructed, and he stepped back to let Ianto in. The men were still clothed, much to Ianto’s disappointment. Ianto walked in and stood by the mattress, wondering if it was going to be used. Most of the time, he had been pinned against the wall or tied to the metal rings embedded in it.

The tall man stepped in close to Ianto, and a large hand circled his throat.

“What do you want tonight?” the tall man asked, and Ianto’s mouth went dry. He paused, feeling overwhelmed, and the grip on his neck tightened slightly.

“Whatever you like,” Ianto said.

“Good. Strip,” the tall man ordered. Ianto began to undress, and to his surprise the other two men stripped down as well. With each piece of clothing removed their expressions became more feral, more hungry. Fear warmed Ianto’s stomach. This was part of the reason he came here. Despite the security and the other patrons in the other rooms, Ianto could be seriously hurt before anyone interceded, if they did at all. Ianto never felt this kind of apprehension with Jack. Since Jack had vanished so abruptly, so willingly after Abaddon, Ianto felt free to pursue his darker instincts the way he had after Lisa died. Lisa didn’t need him to survive anymore, so he did his best not to.

When Ianto and the two men were naked, the tall man paced a circle around them.

“Aren’t you just a pretty one?” he said as he traced the outline of Ianto’s shoulder blades with a cool fingertip.

The duo nodded in agreement. “Have fun you two,” the tall man said. “Keep his ass clean for me.” The tall man sat on the mattress and leaned back against the wall, hands folded in his lap. Settling in as if he was watching a movie on the telly at home.

Ianto kept still as the two men began to touch him eagerly. The ginger man positioned himself behind Ianto and the goateed man knelt in front of him and ran his tongue over Ianto’s balls. Ianto shivered and let his arousal build up. The ginger man kneaded Ianto’s buttocks and knelt down as well, spreading Ianto’s cheeks apart and massaging his hole with slippery thumbs. Ianto closed his eyes to block out the red light and bare walls.

This was good; he had chosen well tonight. The ginger haired man pulled back and suddenly bit Ianto’s right cheek, and Ianto flinched in pain. His left cheek was bitten even harder, and the ache spiked through his body and made his cock harder. A third bite was just as vicious, followed by a hard slap on the cheek. Ianto couldn’t help but jerk forward from the force of the blow into the goateed man who steadied him with hands on his hips.

A finger pressed against his hole. Hands softly stroked his cheeks, followed by long licks. Ianto legs shook from the contrasting sensations of pleasure and hurt.

“Spread your legs,” said the ginger haired man. Ianto complied, feeling the goateed man helping to brace his legs, nudging his feet further apart and then reaching behind Ianto to help spread his stinging arse wider. He went back to sucking and scraping Ianto’s cock with his teeth and beard. The hard bristles stung.

Weak-kneed, welts, waylay. Ianto wondered how long he could last without coming. His legs trembled as two tongues stroked him simultaneously. Harsh panting echoed in the small room.

“Kneel down,” the ginger haired man instructed while pushing down on Ianto’s shoulder. Ianto sank down in relief, knowing it wouldn’t last long before he wanted to stand up again. The floor was dirty cement, and he could feel grit grinding into his kneecaps.

“Don’t let him come yet,” the tall man instructed.

“Get on your hands and knees,” said the fair man. Ianto pitched forward and shifted his legs further apart, fingers splayed and pressed into the floor.

“Good. Enjoy yourself, gentlemen.”

Ianto couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he heard the familiar sounds of condom wrappers being torn and a tube of lubrication being uncapped and squeezed. Ianto knew that it was dangerous and stupid, but he loved the feeling of semen trickling down his leg as he walked home. A slow curl that twisted down the inside of his thighs that would cool and solidify by the time he reached his flat.

Fingers pressed into his hole, wiggled and spread. Ianto reached up a hand and clenched his necklace, breathing deeply and closing his eyes. He heard the sound of a zipper; the tall man was finally getting undressed. He groaned when his prostate was stimulated, then gasped as the fingers pushed in deeper, joined by a thumb. The hand withdrew and Ianto nearly collapsed when another bite, followed by a stinging slap, came unexpectedly. He hastily let go of his necklace and placed his hand back on the floor, gasping in pain.

One of the men lined up behind him. Whoever it was didn’t matter. Rough pubic hair rubbed over his enflamed arse cheeks, and a large cock slowly pushed forward into him. Pain competed with the pleasure and enhanced it. It was too easy to find strangers to hurt him this way while having sex, impossible for him to ask this from his lovers, from Jack.

The sharp stings of his injuries began to melt into him and blend with the rhythm of the push and pull of the man fucking him. Press in and the bite and blow marks flared up.

Over and over as the tempo increased, thrum, thrum, thrum. Ianto concentrated on the wall in front of him and tried his best to keep from coming. Finally, the man grunted long and low, stiffened and came. He pulled out quickly, removed the condom and threw it in the corner.

Grit dug into the skin of Ianto’s forehead when he lowered it to the ground, gasping and shivering with aftershocks. When his breathing slowed and quieted he heard the slip and suck of a blowjob from the mattress. The tall man was still in the same position while the goateed man lay to his right side, blowing him. He stared at Ianto hungrily, mouth open and panting, thrusting upwards into the mouth on him. The ginger haired man climbed onto the bed and lay down on the other side of the tall man.

“Did he come?” asked the tall man asked.

“No,” replied the ginger haired man.

“Good,” the tall man said, and he pushed away the goateed man. “Stop. You two do whatever you want. Leave the pretty one to me.” He got up, and began to circle Ianto.

“Get up,” the tall man ordered. Ianto stood up as quickly as he could on legs that felt far too weak. Weak. Wooble. Wolf. The tall man pressed his fingertips into new indents and incipient bruises. Ianto did his best not to flinch away and his arousal abated.

“Face the wall. Brace yourself.”

Ianto obeyed again, happy to be off his hands and knees. The tall man stood behind him, pressing him into the wall. Ianto pushed back, body shifting into place, feeling a hard cock against his ass. He felt the tall man step back and place his hands on his back. The fingers hooked and sharp nails dragged down his back, over his reddened arse. Ianto whimpered, hoping that the next pass would be harder, break the skin, leave behind trails beaded with blood.

“You like? Good.”

The couple on the bed groaned and began to fuck. The ginger man was pinned down with his legs pulled up to his chest. The goateed man thrust in and out in a hard rhythm.

The next pass of the tall man’s nails was harder; lines of stinging heat crossed over Ianto’s back and sides and arse. The next was harder, as was the next and the next… Ianto clenched his teeth and tears began to run down his face. I love this, he thought, and then his thoughts began to fade and physical sensations swamped him. He was nothing but his body. The tall man smacked his ass hard and he staggered to the side, a cry he tried to hold back forced out of him. His legs felt like Jello, he wanted to sink down and puddle on the floor. He locked his legs instead and gave up trying to hold back his tears; his nose began to run.

“Good boy. Good boy,” whispered the tall man as he stroked Ianto’s back. His touch was light, dipping into the cleft of Ianto’s arse. His skin was so sensitive now; every touch was heightened. The tall man pulled Ianto’s hips back and pushed his thumb into his hole. The men on the bed grunted louder; one cried out, and flesh slapped more and more quickly. The tall man pushed in his other thumb and slowly began to stretch Ianto’s hole. The sounds of fucking from the bed increased; the ginger man wailed with each hard push. The tall man gripped Ianto’s arse cheeks tightly, jerking out a wail from Ianto as his pain flared up once more. The sounds of Ianto’s distress were echoed by the goateed man as he shouted and came.

The tall man withdrew his hands, gripped Ianto’s hips, and pushed forward in a long thrust until his bare cock was fully inside Ianto. Then he reached around and began to stroke Ianto’s semi-erect cock. Push and pull and press on Ianto’s inflamed skin, each sensation shaking Ianto’s control. His cock swelled again as their flesh slapped and ground against each other.

Ianto rested his forehead against the cool wall, his tears drying as the buildup of his orgasm approached quickly. He could hear a buzzing in his ears as he tried to breathe faster. The tall man’s rhythm faltered as he drove in as deeply as he could, and he removed his hand from Ianto’s cock to grip his hip. Ianto was pressed up against the wall, arm spread out over his head, shoving back as hard as he could to keep his cock free enough to wrap his hand around it and stroke.

Ianto shuddered, arched and came, feeling weightless. He slumped against the wall, come trickling down his stomach and cock. The tall man continued to pound into him, his grip on Ianto tightening brutally. Ianto’s senses returned with the last slam that pushed him into the wall. Yes, there was that warm burst inside of him, hotter than his flushed skin.

They slumped together, supported by the wall until the tall man stepped back and pulled out his softening cock. His anchor removed, Ianto slid down to the floor, wondering when he’d be able to move again. The two other men had already left, he noticed. The tall man pulled out some tissues and cleaned himself off, wadding them and throwing them on the floor when he was done.

“You all right?” he asked Ianto.

“Yes,” Ianto said, surprised that he could speak. The tall man nodded and dressed quickly. He walked to the door, paused and looked back at Ianto.

“Be seeing you,” he said, closing the door behind him.

When Ianto began to shiver, he stood up and began to pull his clothes back on. He didn’t bother to clean himself before dressing; he wanted to be sticky and uncomfortable until he arrived at his flat. He winced as he pulled his jeans on. Perhaps he’d call in sick tomorrow; the team would probably assume that he was moping over Jack. He would have to come up with a convincing excuse to keep out any surprise guests looking to comfort him. Sound sick, but not too sick.

Tomorrow, he decided. He’d think about Torchwood obligations in the morning. Tonight was his. He walked out slowly into the dim red hall, a familiar heat seeping out of him as he made his way home. Wanting. Wondering. Waiting.


End file.
